Since The Day We Met
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: They've been dating for months... Sherlock's just taking a while to catch up. Utter fluff.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise. **

**Challenges at the bottom. **

**Word Count** \- 1826

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**Since The Day We Met **

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He didn't notice until he did and then it hit him like a freight train. An old lady smiled at them as she handed over their coffees, and with a sly wink, told John he was lucky to have such a handsome man.

_And John didn't deny it. _

There was no 'not gay', there was only a warm smile and a "thank you."

And now that Sherlock had noticed it, he realised he hadn't heard 'not gay' for a while.

Not since John came home.

…

_John stood on the doorstep, soaking wet with his bag on his arm. _

"_John?" _

"_I… Can I come home?" _

"_Of course." _

_And that had been that. _

…

He pondered the meaning behind it, but came to no solid conclusions. It was likely that John had just decided that he was bored of denying their involvement.

Sherlock himself got bored all too easily, so that certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibilities. Still, the "thank you" had caught him off guard.

"You alright?"

Sherlock blinked, turning his attention to John, who was sipping at his coffee with an amused smile on his face.

"Oh. Yes, I'm fine."

John nodded. "I'm going to head home after this. Greg's birthday drinks tonight, and I want to eat before I go out."

Sherlock nodded absently, and then, with a smirk asked, "Who's Greg?"

John laughed. "You're a git."

…

Sherlock was waiting for John when he came down the stairs.

"You're still dressed?" John asked, as he entered the kitchen. "Unusual. What's the occasion?"

Huffing, the consulting detective replied, "Lestrade's birthday drinks. Do keep up, John."

He waited to be ridiculed for wanting to go out and join in, but John's lips just melted into a warm smile.

"You're coming? That's great, Sherlock. Gimme two minutes and I'll be ready, kay?"

Sherlock nodded mutely. He hadn't expected such… enthusiasm, and he wondered how often John had actually wanted him there when he asked if Sherlock wanted to join him on whatever outing he was going.

He'd always thought it was simple politeness.

There were a lot of things he was beginning to wonder if he'd been wrong about in regards to John, and it was galling because he thought he knew the man well.

John finished fastening his shoes and slipped his watch over his wrist before he rejoined Sherlock, smiling at him again.

"You ready?"

Sherlock nodded, slipping into his belstaff. "As I'll ever be, John."

…

"I'm not drunk, John! I'm just a little buzzed! Bzzzz!"

John laughed, helping the stumbling Sherlock into the flat. He stripped first his own coat, then Sherlocks, hanging them both up.

"Come on, Bumble, let's get you to bed."

Sherlock followed John willingly to his bedroom.

"Bumble?" he asked. He'd never heard John call him that before but… he liked it.

John chuckled again. "Yes. Bumble. Sit," he instructed, pointing to the bed.

Sherlock sat.

Crouching down, John removed Sherlock's shoes and placed them neatly to the side. He stood again, pulling Sherlock with him as he tugged back the covers.

"Get in," he murmured, nudging Sherlock gently.

Sherlock complied, and John tucked him in, running a hand through Sherlock's bouncy curls.

"Goodnight," John murmured, quietly, stepping away from the bed.

"John… you know I love you, right?"

John smiled, his hand on the door. "I love you too, Bumble."

…

"John?"

John was sitting in his armchair, and he chuckled when Sherlock entered the living room, freshly showered and in his blue silk dressing gown, but looking rougher than John had ever seen him.

"I'll make you some tea, and get you some paracetamol," John murmured, keeping his voice low.

Sherlock nodded, wincing and gingerly seated himself on the sofa.

When John returned, he had his eyes closed and one hand massaging his temple.

"Sit up," John whispered.

He fed Sherlock paracetamol with a glass of cold water and put his tea on the table, before he sat down beside him, patting his thigh invitingly.

Sherlock lay back down, his head on John's lap, and John's soft fingers immediately took the place of Sherlock's own at his temple, massaging gently.

"I'm never drinking again," Sherlock whimpered, nudging his face deeper against John's thigh.

John chuckled quietly. "The amount of times I've said that… you just need to know your limits. And you… surpassed those quite marvellously last night."

"I told you I love you," Sherlock muttered after a minute of silence, John's hands slowly working the tension from Sherlock's head.

"I know. I remember," John teased.

"You told me you love me too."

"Believe it or not, I remember that too."

Sherlock opened his eyes to glare at John, though he softened almost immediately when he saw the look on John's face.

"Did you mean it?" he asked, not sure if he actually wanted to know.

"Of course I did."

Sherlock smiled, closing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep for a bit, Bumble. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sherlock snorted, shifting so his hand was gripping at John's t-shirt. "I'd like to see you try and get away without waking me up."

…

Sherlock woke slowly. He felt amazing, comfortable and safe in a way he almost never felt. In fact, he only ever felt this safe when John—

He blinked his eyes open, finding himself looking at the underside of John's chin. His head had fallen back against the sofa, and his even breathing told Sherlock that he was fast asleep.

His hand was still wound in Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock buried his face against John's stomach, inhaling deeply. John's breathing stuttered and he woke up slowly, looking down at Sherlock.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep and _oh so very enticing. _

"Better," Sherlock admitted.

He knew he should sit up, but he was reluctant to move, comfortable as he was. In fairness, it didn't seem like John was in much of a hurry to move either, and so he stayed where he was.

They remained in comfortable silence, Sherlock enjoying the proximity to another human being like he never had before, and John waking up properly.

Eventually, he nudged Sherlock from his lap and got up for the bathroom.

When he returned, it was to find Sherlock flipping through takeaway menus..

"What are you doing?"

"Food, John. I'm starving, and since we've slept the day away, I feel like I need to feed you before you turn into the hulk."

John blinked. "Nice pop culture reference."

Sherlock snorted. "You insist I watch enough of the movies that I've picked at least _some _things up, John."

John nodded looking thoughtful. "I rather thought that you'd have deleted them though."

Sherlock shrugged. The truth was, he never deleted anything connected to John. Not since that first case. He had a whole wing in his mind palace dedicated to John and a wealth of seemingly useless information kept if there was even the remotest connection to the man.

"What are we eating?"

"Thai?" Sherlock offered, holding up the menu.

John shrugged. "Whatever you want, I'm good. I'll ring the order in."

"You don't know what I want."

John raised his eyebrow. "Yeah. I really do."

…

"How did you get my order right?"

"Because you order the same thing every third time we ring for Thai."

Sherlock blinked. "And you remembered that?"

"Of course I did. There's very little that I don't remember about you."

"John…"

An awkward silence fell for a moment, before Sherlock blurted, "I want to date you."

John stared at him for a moment, before he chuckled. "Bumble, we've been dating for months."

It was Sherlock's turn to stare. "We… have?"

"Since I moved back in, at least," John confirmed.

"Oh."

Silence resumed and John pottered about, making tea and cleaning up the takeaway containers. Eventually, he rejoined Sherlock in the living room, sitting beside him on the sofa.

Sherlock immediately lay down as he had earlier in the day, his head on John's lap. John's fingers gently combed through his hair, tugging at a knot every now and then.

"Movie?" John suggested, and Sherlock nodded, handing him the remote. John flicked through the channels until he found an appropriately bad movie, and the two settled in comfortably, Sherlock's attention firmly on the hand sifting through his curls and the revelation of, "of course we're dating."

How the hell had he missed that?

…

When the movie finished, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, and he murmured that it was very much his bedtime.

Even though they'd had a pretty long nap during the afternoon, the long case and then the night out for Greg's birthday had taken it out of him.

He moved Sherlock and got himself ready for bed, ruffling a hand one last time through Sherlock's hair before he climbed the stairs to his room.

Sherlock remained on the sofa for five minutes that seemed to last five years, deliberating.

Eventually, he decided that he could, in fact, walk up to John's room and climb into his bed and it would be _fine. _

That thought lasted as long as it took for him to push the door to John's room open. He wavered in the doorway long enough that John twisted himself in the bed to look at him.

"Okay?"

"I. Erm. Can I?" Sherlock asked, stumbling over his words and pointing to the bed.

John's eyes widened slightly before he nodded. "Of course you can. Whatever you want is fine, Bumble."

Sherlock shuffled across the room and climbed into the bed. He didn't know what to do with his arms and legs, but with one glance, John seemed to know what the problem was and solved it for him.

Turning on to his back, John raised his arm for Sherlock to lie against his chest. Sherlock placed his hand on John's heart, the steady beating comforting him immediately.

"John… I…"

"I know, Sherlock. Like I told you, whatever you want is fine."

"Can I… can I kiss you?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Sherlock lifted his head and stared at John for a moment before he lowered his lips to John's in a chaste kiss.

It felt…

He pulled back, his eyes wide. "I can do that… whenever? And I don't need to ask?"

John laughed, his eyes twinkling as he gently wrapped a hand around the back of Sherlock's head.

"You don't _ever _have to ask."

And he pulled him in for a longer kiss.

…

Sherlock woke up feeling well rested.

Usually, on such mornings, rare as they were, he would immediately hop out of bed and start the day but…

John lay beside him, his back curled into Sherlock's front.

And it was perfect.

And Sherlock didn't want to go anywhere.

...

"Morning, Bumble."

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"You're mine, now. Right? This… it means that you're mine?"

"I've always been yours, Sherlock. Since the day we met."

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**Written for; **

Auction - Sherlock Fandom

365 - 101. Wealth

1000 - 721. Sherlock


End file.
